


Strong Doesn't Have To Mean Alone

by firstdegreefangirl



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Fix-It, I haven't watched it yet but I know what happens, Minor Character Death, abby just needs someone to take care of her, buck is a sweetheart, even though I know it didn't, kind of based on the finale?, so this is pretty much me guessing at how it should have gone, spoilers for season 1 finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 18:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14195103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstdegreefangirl/pseuds/firstdegreefangirl
Summary: Above everything else, Abby Clark is a strong, independent woman. And dating Buck hasn’t changed any of that. But when her mother dies, Abby's world is rocked.





	Strong Doesn't Have To Mean Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Life got crazy busy so I haven't seen the last three or four episodes of the season yet, but I know the gist of the finale, and I couldn't help but picture Buck taking care of Abby and being all cute, so enjoy 2000 words of that! 
> 
> I wrote the whole thing in one go, and it's totally unbeta'ed, so let me know if I missed anything huge!

Above everything else, Abby Clark is a strong, independent woman. She was the first female dispatcher in the city, and she’s still one of the hardest to shake. People have died on the phone with her, and she’s still taken the next call. She worked more than full-time and still taken care of her invalid mother. And dating Buck hasn’t changed any of that.

Sure, she’s having a lot of fun with him, and he’s made her laugh more times in the last three months than she can remember laughing in the last three years before that. But he knows that none of that is what comes first for Abby. She’s a strong, independent woman, and that’s one of his favorite things about her.  Buck doesn’t spend the night very often, really just when he passes out in her bed. He tries not to think too hard about why, trying just to live in the moment and enjoy things as they come his way. Abby, though, she’s hesitant to let him start staying over because it feels like too much of a step right now. She’s just starting to make time for a boyfriend again, she doesn’t want things happening too fast for her to keep up.

When her mother dies, Abby’s world is rocked. But she doesn’t give herself time to really feel any of it. There’s too much to do, organizing the funeral service and the wake, ending the hospice services, working 10-hour days, reheating casseroles people have brought over, but the one thing she doesn’t do is let anything sink in. She also doesn’t take Buck up on his offer to stay with her the night after Patricia’s service. “So the house won’t feel so empty for you,” he claims, but she can’t stand the sadness in his eyes. Or the kicked puppy look he gives her when she tells him that it’s fine, really, but she knows he has to work the next afternoon and he should really be well rested for saving lives.

So she kisses his cheek and straightens his tie before she goes to thank Bobby for coming, and for the flowers he sent.  

And it’s a decision she doesn’t regret. For just shy of eight hours.

But when Abby lays down to go to sleep, when there’s no more burial clothes to choose, no more nighttime pills lain out on the counter for Carla, she finds that she can’t fall asleep. Every time she closes her eyes, Patricia is there. Sometimes Abby is a little girl, sitting on the bathroom counter while her mother trims her bangs evenly. Sometimes she’s a bratty teenager, complaining that she’s not allowed to go out on a school night. Those times hurt. But the ones that hurt so much more are the ones that Abby knows will never happen. Patricia, sitting in the front row at Abby’s wedding, even if there’s no groom in that vision yet. Holding her grandbaby for the first time. When Abby opens her eyes again, she notices the wetness spilling onto her cheeks and she realizes the futility in holding it back anymore. No one is home, no one is there to hear her cry.

So she does. Loud, heaving sobs that have her curling into herself and pushing her hand over her mouth while she tries to remind herself to breathe carefully and deeply. She’s so busy thinking about her breaths that she doesn’t even notice her other hand reaching shakily for her cell phone.

* * *

 

After the funeral, no one from the station really felt like parting ways. They’ve dealt with so much hard stuff as a team that it only felt right to handle this together too. So the whole group of them – and Athena – is piled into Bobby’s living room watching TV. They’ve gone through four channel changes – a sports game between two teams no one had heard of, some cheesy made for TV movie, cable news, and finally re-runs of _Seinfeld_ – and everyone is zoning out.

Buck is almost asleep on Bobby’s sofa when his phone rings. He picks it up and swipes across the screen without bothering to check the caller ID.

“Go for Buck.” But no one says anything, and he’s about to hang up when he hears what sounds like a choked sob on the other end. His heart sinks as he pulls the phone back to look at the screen and confirm what he already knows. “Abbs?” There’s more sobbing, and Bobby looks over at him curiously. “Abbs, Abby, hey. Breathe, OK? Can you do that? C’mon, let’s take a deep breath.” He sucks in some air and pushes it back out, but Abby still sobs. “OK, maybe next time. Where are you?” He leans forward and Bobby’s brow furrows, but Abby is crying too hard to speak. “Are you at home?” She manages something that sounds vaguely affirmative and Buck stands up. “OK, I’m coming over. No, no, you’re not going to stop me. It’s OK, I’ll be fine at work tomorrow. Listen, I’m hanging up now, but I’ll call you from the car.”

“Buck …” Bobby looks like he wants to stand up too, but Hen is leaning against his shoulder and snoring softly.

“I’m gonna head out, man. She’s … she didn’t say anything, but I’m going over there. Uh, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He’s pulling his shoes on and his hands are shaking a little bit.

“Don’t worry about it, we can cover for you. Drive easy, Buck. Don’t need another one of my guys ending up in the hospital with rebar through his head.” Bobby chuckles a little bit, but it’s forced. “And seriously, let us know if she needs anything. Or if you do.”

“Yeah, yeah, I will, Bobby.” Buck sobers up as he opens the apartment door. “Thanks. I’ll see you.”

He’s down the six flights of stairs faster than he’s ever been, breathing hard as he slides behind the steering wheel of his pickup. He jams the key into the ignition and takes a couple deep breaths while he’s backing out so he can call Abby back. When she answers the phone, she’s still obviously crying, but manages to stammer out his name.

“Hey, beautiful. And don’t even try to argue it, you are. Yes, even now. But I’m just leaving Bobby’s, so I should be pulling into your building in five minutes or so. I’ll stay on until then. You’ve done this, you know the drill. You don’t have to talk, just keep making noise, Abbs.” And she does, sobbing quietly for his entire drive. Buck narrates his entire drive, the other cars on the road, counting the seconds out loud at red lights, and when he runs out of other things to say, he hums softly and she can hear his hands knocking out a beat on the steering wheel. She doesn’t want to think about how much it means to her, but the other option is thinking about her mom, so she has to admit that it means a lot.  

Abby almost doesn’t hear Buck’s engine shut off in the background, but then he’s talking in her ear again.

“Just pulled up, I’m gonna jump those stairs. Your door unlocked? If not, I’m sure I can get it open, but it’d probably be easier the usual way. And your landlord might like it better.”

“I … I can let you in.” And it’s the most words he’s heard from her since the service ended that morning.

“Aight, cool. I’m on my way up now.” Which wasn’t a necessary addendum, because she can hear his feet pounding up the stairs, and before long she can hear his footsteps in the hallway. Abby hauls herself out of bed and drags herself to the door to let him in.

Buck is immediately stricken by how disheveled Abby looks, in her tattered robe with her hair and makeup still done up for the service but falling out and smeared across her face.

“Hey, lady.” He smiles as best as he can, but he’s pretty sure it’s not convincing.

“You don’t have to …”

“Shush. Yes, I do.” He puts his arm around her shoulder and brushes some of the hair out of her eyes. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, but yes I do. Now, not that’s you don’t always look amazing, but can we get you cleaned up? My ma always said there’s no feeling quite like sloughing her makeup off at the end of the day.” He smiles again, and Abby nods weakly, so he steers her toward the bathroom. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror, but before she can grimace, Buck turns her toward him and runs her softest washcloth under the faucet. She’s not sure why it surprises her when the water is just warm enough to be soothing without burning her skin; Buck has shown her time and again how gentle he can be, but it still makes her relax into his touch.

“Thanks, Buck,” she murmurs, leaning against his chest as soon as he sets the cloth down.

“Hey, what was I gonna do? Let you get mascara all over my favorite ratty white T-shirt?” he laughs gently and leads her back to bed.

“Been a while since someone did that for me. Last was …” she tenses up on the bed. “It’s been a while.”

“It’s OK, you know?” Buck lays down beside her. “To talk about her, and … remember. That’s important stuff, Abbs.”

“I know. I just … can’t do it. Not right now. I didn’t do enough, I just hired nurses and ignored her.”

“You did _everything_. Everything you could, and everything she needed. Even when that meant calling in reinforcements with fancy training to help you take a load off. You had to take care of yourself too. You have to take care of yourself.” She’s shifted to rest her head on Buck’s chest and he’s gently picking the pins out of her hair and untwisting it.

“I’m trying.”

“I know. I know you are.” He catches his fingers in a knot in her hair and she winces. “Sorry, I’ll get it out.”

“You’re good at this.” Buck’s hands feel so nice in her hair that Abby feels her eyelids getting heavy. But she doesn’t want to fall asleep yet, both because Buck is being so gentle and because she’s afraid her mom will be in her dreams too.

“Yeah? My first real girlfriend drank a lot and I always ended up taking care of her. Can’t guarantee it’ll look any good, but I used to be able to braid hair. That way I wouldn’t have to hold it back while she threw up, and I could go take care of the bed sheets or whatever.” Again, that shouldn’t surprise Abby, because Buck has never been anything less than wonderful to her, but she finds it hard to picture him braiding hair for people.

“It’d look good.”

“I appreciate your faith in me, Ms. Clark, but why don’t we wait until tomorrow? That way you don’t have to sit up. You can go to sleep.” He cranes his head down and brushes a kiss against her forehead.

“She’s there. Whenever I close my eyes, she’s there, Buck.”

“She always will be. That’s where you can keep her, Abbs. She’s not gone forever. You’ve gotta … believing that makes everything else so much easier.”

“It hurts.”

“That’s because you love her. But it’ll start hurting less, and even until then, I’m here. I’m here with you, Abbs. And even when I’m not, I’m just a phone call away.”

“I know … thanks.” There’s a heavy pause before she responds, as she looses the battle against falling asleep curled up with Buck. She supposes it’s an indication of how safe he makes her feel, that she was choking on her tears under an hour ago, but now that Buck is here, she’s comfortable going to sleep. “Buck …”

“Shh, Abbs, go to sleep. I’ll be here, I promise.” He’s massaging her scalp again, so really, who is she to reject that? She presses a soft kiss to his chest as her eyes slip closed and she lets sleep wash over her.

 This time, when Patricia sits at her wedding, there’s a groom waiting at the altar.  

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! The more kudos/comments this gets, the better Buck's hair braiding skills get. xoxo


End file.
